Archive for the ‘Halloween’ Category

Seraphena, a black panther shifter and familiar, hasn’t had a night off in months. Between work, dealing with her mother, and issues with her leap, her life is one challenge after the next. So when she finally finds herself with a night to herself, the last thing she expects is spending it with her secret crushes, Carver and Thorn, demons and owners of her favorite café, The Java Demon. Neither does she expect what happens when you play high card strip with a couple of pros. They give her a hot game, a night to remember with a little kink on the side. But Sera knows it can’t last with all the complications in her life. The last thing she needs is having to explain two men at once—and demons at that.

Carver and Thorn have wanted Sera from the moment she first strolled into the Java Demon for her caffeine fix. Now that they have her in their life, they refuse to let her go. They will bind her to them in every way they can, fulfill her fantasies, and show her the love and support she needs. Nothing will stand in their way—not work, not her mother, not her pard. But it might be Sera herself who shuts them out if she can’t stand up to those who would dictate their love…

“And if you’re a really good girl—and I mean a good girl—I’ll ask my best friend to join us. Him in your ass and me in your pussy.” Carver pressed his palm against her stomach and slipped it down until he covered her mound. “You want to be our good girl, don’t you?”

She nodded, unsure of what it would take to be that, but knowing that whatever it was she’d do it. He smiled and it felt as though the sun had come out. Heat radiated from his lips. She reached up to cup his face and bring him closer for a kiss, but he lifted his head.

“Tsk, tsk, not yet. I’m not finished.” He rolled his hips, rubbing his erection into her. The noises she made turned to moans. “Feel that? Every inch for you, used to pleasure you, fuck you, make you moan and scream and beg and cry out, to own you. I’ll sink into you over and over again, make you come so hard you’ll see stars. I’ll use toys, my fingers, my mouth, my tongue, my lips, my cock to worship you as you deserve. My beautiful one, I will never do to you what that bastard, Arthur, did to you.”

Sera jerked back. The fantasy faded away at the mention of her ex. How could he? She narrowed her eyes at him. “How do you know about Arthur? Only Mysta, Bridget, and Lana know what happened with him.”

Carver shrugged. “Word does get around, even if you don’t open that pretty mouth of yours. Besides, the asshole told anyone who would hear at the Harvest Festival about leaving you. But don’t worry, Thorn and I put him in his place.” A hard look entered Carver’s eyes, a darkness that glittered in the inky black of his irises. He gave her a dark smile.

Her nipples pebbled to the point of pain and she shivered. The arousal stirred to life. “Why would you do that for me? Whatever it is you did.”

Carver bent his head down. “Because I will fight to have you and shed blood to keep you safe and keep your heart secure. You are worth it. You are priceless. Do not doubt that.”

He cut off any response by lowering his head and pressing his lips to hers. Her mind became swathed in desire, and her body temperature rose once again. She was in so deep she wasn’t sure she wanted to escape.

Thank you to Selena for letting us take over her blog! (That sounds so villain-y, doesn’t it?)

We’re 12 authors from the Seductive Supernaturals box set, and we’re about to share blurbs and snippets with you, so prepare to have a reading experience! But, first, you should know about the bundle itself. Right now, it’s only .99 for a limited time. (Regular price 9.99.) That’s right—for only .99, you’ll get 6 full-length novels and 6 novellas from bestselling authors! Bought separately, these books would cost over 40.00.

So in short = Amazon bestselling bundle, all standalone books, no cliffhangers, low price! You can cozy up with sexy bad boys and tortured alpha heroes in these 12 steamy full-length paranormal romance novels and novellas from NY Times, USA Today, and national bestselling authors, just in time for Halloween!

Gracie Beck vowed that she would never to return to Diablo Springs, but the haunted town lures her back—along with the man who betrayed her years ago. Reilly broke her heart with his lies. Now, he wants a second chance to win her, but can they survive the ghosts of Diablo Springs?

Snippet:

Surprise darkened his eyes. Uncertainty shadowed them. Gracie didn’t give him the chance to make a decision—wrong or right. She took his face between her hands and kissed him. Earlier, in the kitchen, too much of their past had been churned to the surface. She’d needed a moment to let it settle, to let the doubts sift to the bottom so she could see what was important.

Reilly had done what he’d thought best. So had she. They’d made the decisions of teenagers—the same age as the two children who slept across the hall. Using those choices as a measuring rod now would be as foolish as the choices themselves.

Besides, through it all, in spite of it all, there was still this—the fire, the passion that led them to her pregnancy in the first place.

From NY Times and USA Today Bestseller Caridad Pineiro, a Jersey Girl who just wants to write, and travel. Caridad is the author of over 40 novels/novellas and loves romance novels, super heroes, TV and cooking.

Would you be reborn for love? Ryder Latimer, sexy Southern vampire, will have to make one of the most difficult choices in his undead life: Become human again or protect his new wife and child.

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“No, Di. In the mirror. I can see myself in the mirror. Just faintly, but my image is there.”

He waited for her disbelief, but instead there was only calm acceptance as she trailed her hand across his cheek and then skimmed it down to run across the bare skin at his shoulder. “You’re warmer, too. When you’re not in your vampire state that is. I noticed that you’re warmer the other night in bed.”

He’d thought so also, but had been afraid that it was just his imagination or maybe the changes in Diana.

Much like he’d had a taste of slayer blood, so had Diana in order to save her life during the birth of their daughter. Combined with his turning her, she was now a dhampir like their newborn child, and gifted with some vampire strength and healing, but also with mortal limitations.

“Do you think it’s possible that . . . I’m different? That the slayer blood did something?” he asked.

From Erin Kellison, the New York Times bestselling and award-winning author of dark fantasy romance, including the Shadow series and the Reveler series.

Just discovering her magic, ballerina Annabella Ames didn’t mean to summon a dark wolf from Twilight, nor the tempting fallen angel Custo Santovari, who has no place in Heaven. The cunning wolf stalks them relentlessly, and danger seduces as they fight for redemption and love.

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She’d had one lover before, long over, but never, even at the peak of that passion, had she felt a fraction of the desire Custo evoked with the rake of his lust-hungry eyes. How could it be that an angel and temptation were one and the same?

Annabella’s breath caught as Custo leaned forward and found her jaw with his mouth, whispering against her skin as he traced a line toward her lips. “Your mind is a jumble, but it’s clear the direction you’re going. Decide already.”

The thought of her body under his, his muscles bunching, broad shoulders flaring as he braced himself over her had the burn coiling into a sublimely torturous, yearning knot. She was happy, celebratory, and, yes, she wanted it all. She wanted him.

From Lisa Kessler, an Amazon Best Selling author of dark, passionate, paranormal romance, including the Award-Winning Night Series and Moon Series.

When Colin Flynn returns home to Ireland, the immortal Night Walker’s flesh has healed, but the scars hide a broken spirit. Juliana Duffy plays piano in spite of her deafness, challenging him to redefine himself and find the strength to battle an ancient enemy.

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He tipped his head. As she came around the bar, he turned his attention back to Juliana. Her determined stance reassured him. She was a fighter, heart and soul. He didn’t need to peer into her mind to see it. “I’ll meet up with you before sunrise.”

He stepped closer to her, the floral scent of her skin enticing him. She tipped her chin up, staring into his eyes, as his finger tenderly traced her jawline. He had to touch her soft, warm skin. This woman had been through enough already. Losing her cousin would surely break her. He needed to protect his territory, but now it was personal. He had to protect Juliana. And right now, that meant finding Muriel. He could not fail.

Leaning closer, he whispered, “Please be safe.”

Her lips parted, tempting him to bridge the distance between them. Before he could act, she rose on her toes and her lips tenderly brushed his, setting fire to his ancient soul. She lowered, breaking the kiss, her lashes fluttering up as she stared at him.

Two monster hunters fighting a star-crossed attraction and one bloodthirsty phantom leaving a trail of death… Can love survive till the sun rises?

Snippet:

The boots were clinging to me like fingers clawing their way down my skin, leaving delicious shivers that floated up, arousing me higher and higher. I moaned under his lips, wanting more, wanting to be anywhere but here with him…

I might have even made a small, agitated sound when he ended the kiss, his mouth less than an inch from mine, so close that I could feel every warm word echo against me.

They say Hotel Colorado is haunted, but when Dillon Spencer appears in his hotel room to find Hilly Thompson, his assistant, soaking in the tub, he begins to question whether or not he’s alive, dead or caught in another dimension.

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“You can’t be here. It’s impossible. You’re too near death to be so well.” She tried to think of scenarios that could have brought him out of his coma and into the room, but none of them made any sense.

He pointed at a black leather notebook on the dresser in the corner of the room. “My things seem to be everywhere, along with yours. Yet you say we’re not dating, and there you are exposing yourself to me in the bathtub. Odd, don’t you think?”

A pang of guilt swept over her. “I, um, can explain everything. I was tired and—”

“You have feelings for me. I felt it when you touched my face. Those feelings aren’t love, they’re something else. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but then I can’t seem to put my finger on anything.” He giggled, and swiped at a towel hanging on a metal rack. His hand seemed to pass right through it.

From USA Today bestselling author Maureen Child, the award winning author of more than 130 romance novels in several different genres. More at www.maureenchild.com .

MORE THAN FIENDS

At 32, Cassidy Burke discovers she’s a legendary Demon Duster. But she’s got bigger problems than some pesky demons. Like, Logan Miller–first love, baby daddy to her genius daughter is back. Then there’s Devlin Cole, a walking orgasm with too many secrets. Cassidy’s life is out of control and about to get way too interesting.

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I stared up at Magic Nights, and it looked a lot different in daylight. White brick, so clean and brilliant, it seemed to glow in the sun, the building took up nearly half the block. Windows glistened blankly, curtains closed tight across them. Neatly trimmed green hedges hugged the edges of the building and a small, elegant brass plaque by the double front doors proclaimed in swirling script, Magic Nights.

If you didn’t know what it was, the building could pass for any upscale business place. I’d never been inside Magic Nights, but I had driven past it at night. All lit up by bright white lights and flashes of color, music poured out the doors that were harder to get through than the gates at Buckingham Palace.

I’d often wondered why Devlin Cole had chosen to bring his exclusive club to La Sombra. After all, he probably would have done even more business than he did, if the place was in Los Angeles or San Francisco. But, maybe his clientele appreciated the smaller town vibe.

When Dr. Evelyn Vale is paired with Immortal Bounty’s sexy commander to go undercover and infiltrate a supernatural body-trafficking ring, she’s eager to get to work. Until she learns the catch… To crack this case, he’ll need to possess her body.

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A few of the naked men turned their backs on her, others adjusted the towels at their waists, but one man in particular turned his torso in her direction. He was naked from the top of his glorious head to the tips of his sturdy feet. It was the rest of him that had Evelyn’s attention though. Her partner was…glorious. She’d thought perhaps his clothes had made him look bigger, broader at the shoulders, but no. That bulk was all him. Pure Greater-American muscle.

“Yes, Dr. Vale? Can I help you?” Jesse picked up a towel and cupped it over his groin.

“Uh…” Was this where she ran out screaming, blurting apologies, or was she supposed to seem unaffected by the locker-room scene, like just one of the guys. Darlene had warned her not to show fear. Did that apply to naked men?

Tarot cards predict a dangerous journey for Taylor Rose, but she doesn’t expect to travel back to 1888 San Diego. What the cards didn’t predict was falling for a man bent on revenge, a helpful ghost, and spooky séances. Is she there to prevent a murder or to find love?

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He was neatly dressed in a clean white shirt and ornate crimson and black brocaded vest, a loosely knotted silk string tie at his neck. His inky black hair was combed back, and seemed to be cut in longer layers than most of the other men. A few untamed tendrils curled onto his forehead. He was clean shaven, with a generous mouth that, she had already noticed, was quick to smile. He was hot—by anyone’s standards, no matter the time or place.

Taylor took another swallow of beer and tried to distract herself, self-conscious and embarrassed by her attraction to the man. It was as though she couldn’t help watching Jackson’s reflection in the mirror as he worked, the muscular outline of his broad shoulders straining against the fabric of his shirt as he constantly reached for bottles and glasses. She glanced downward to a waist that revealed an obviously flat stomach and narrow hips.

Taylor blinked, now more than a little shocked at her brazen staring. It must be the whiskey, she thought. Why else would she be on the verge of fantasizing about a man who—with any luck—would think she was a man?
And, add to that the fact that at least it appeared she was actually sitting in a saloon in San Diego in 1888.

Corporal Cole Wagner lost his humanity in war – literally. Turned into a vampire by the military’s Vector Force, he’s the ultimate weapon, but when he returns home to set the past right, will the enemy stop at nothing to get him, including threatening the life of the woman he loved, and lost, before?

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Cole instantly broke off the kiss. Kayla’s creamy skin was flushed with just a hint of pink and the heat in her brown eyes could have scalded him like a fresh cup of coffee. Her lips, now a deeper pink and slightly parted as her breath came faster, begged him to taste her again. But Cole held himself in check with a level of discipline that would have made his drill sergeant proud.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he said, perhaps a tad too brusquely. The sparkle faded from her eyes and she pulled further away from him, crossing her arms over her chest. Great. He’d hurt her feelings. Not what he’d intended. But then none of this had been what he intended.

She gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Then exactly what did you have in mind?”

Yeah, like he had a prayer of explaining his vampire state or his powers to any civilian, let alone a woman who knew him better than anyone except his dead friend. Cole shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Won’t happen. We had our time and it didn’t work out. I’m just here as a friend.”

From Sheri Whitefeather, an award-winning, bestselling romance author. Her books are generously spiced with love, passion and sinfully hot heroes.

Marie’s heart punched her chest. Although Nicholas was immortal, he looked about her age, with tousled dark hair, hazel eyes, a bad-boy smile, and a hot-as-sin body clothed in a black shirt and slim-fitting jeans. No scarves, no headdress, no genie attire from her childhood imaginings.

A gap of sexy silence passed between them. Or that was how it felt to her. But maybe she was reading more into it because he was so gorgeous. She’d expected handsome, but not the holy-fucking-hell kind.

“Hello, Marie.” His voice was as devilish as the rest of him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She could little more than reply, “You, too.”

He gave a slight bow. “I’m at your service.”

From bestselling author Elisabeth Staab, who loves happy endings, coffee, and sob-inducing “restore your faith in humanity” stories. She lives in Washington DC with her family and her mug collection.

A mandatory vacation lands Agent Sherri Walker in bed with a local werewolf. Asher Hughes walked away from his outlaw pack but couldn’t ditch the bad blood. Together they’ll have to pull off one hell of an act to get out of treacherous territory alive.

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She looked him over. He smiled easily, seductively, as relaxed and confident now as when he’d clutched that other man’s shirt in his fingers. Eyes that appeared coal-dark outside now glowed like warm amber, glittering under the bar lights. Blunt nails and roughed-up hands suggested manual labor, but his fingers looked long and elegant. The kaleidoscope-color tattoos of a skeleton wearing a wolf pelt and the bold text that decorated his forearms suggested— “Oh, hell.”

Pack emblems. She’d attended a seminar on them before leaving DC. “You’re a werewolf.” They’d made their existence known over the past couple of decades, small gangs of them living along the Mexico border. Further north, some still didn’t believe in their existence, but their penchant toward violent behavior had landed more than one on the government’s watch list.

The words Los Lobos Muertos twisted around each tattoo. His pack name. Must be.

It’s Samhain and Brent wants to fulfill Carissa’s fantasy of sex in a bookshop while it’s open. With help from Fletch he’s going to make it a hot, steamy night she’ll never forget.

Carissa only wanted to spend more time with her mate she didn’t know what to expect when they arrived in the mountains to visit his parents. After dressing her as a French maid, him as Highway man and their friend Fletch as Zorro, she’s pretty sure that he’s taken her fantasy to a whole new level.

Samhain has always been a magical time, now it’s about to get a whole lot hotter.

“Whoa there, lover,” Carissa called out. “We have time, there’s no rush.”

“He’s just impatient,” Fletch said as he caught up. “Slow down man, I don’t want to look suspicious to the cops.” He nodded his head toward a man dressed as a British Bobby.

Brent grumbled something that Carissa didn’t catch, but she was relieved when he slowed his pace to a relaxed walk. Her muscles ached as she matched his speed. They had been walking over uneven cobblestone, up and down hills, for the last half hour.

“Trying to get me to lose five pounds?” she teased, knowing that wasn’t the case.

“You know I love your curves, honey.” Brent leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Sorry for the rush, just wanted to get there as fast as possible in case they changed their mind.”

Fletch laughed. “Fat chance of that, they’ve done this type of thing before. Tor arranged for it last month when he brought Louisa with him on a visit to his parents. So no worries.”

Carissa didn’t comment, she just kept walking. At least she knew that this would be a safe place to fulfill this type of fantasy.

The town around them was dressed in its fall colors, deep reds, bright golds, rich browns and even a few green leaves still decorated the trees. Cinnamon, cloves, pumpkin and incense wove through the cool breeze that brought goose bumps to her bare arms and legs. She tugged at her skirt, wishing it were a little longer and that she’d been allowed to wear stockings. Brent had said that stockings or even thigh highs would have gotten in the way. So she dressed in the costume Brent had provided for her and followed him and Fletch out the door with kisses and winks from Brent’s mom and dad.

“If you wanted to take me on a pleasure tour of your hometown, you couldn’t have done it during the day and allowed me to wear more comfortable shoes?” The five-inch peep toe stilettos weren’t doing her feet any favors on the cobblestone sidewalks.

“Sorry, I should have warned you.” Brent pulled her toward him and gave her a kiss on her temple. “The bookstore is in the more secluded part of town.”

“The Red Light district,” Fletch leered.

“Sex, sex, sex, that’s all you think about,” she teased back.

“Well, when you’ve got a sexy girlfriend like I have, that’s all you can concentrate on.” Brent stopped and pulled her in a for a long slow kiss.

Kit has never forgotten the cruel way Rysen rejected her as a possible consort over a hundred years ago. She’s striven to get stronger, pushing her attraction to him down and using her anger as fuel.

Rysen has always regretted the way he rejected Kit. As much as he loved her, Rysen despised the way her clan tried to use her as a political gambit for power and protection. But he never stopped wanting Kit, trying to make her his in every way possible.

When enemies attack, they use old magic to seal themselves off and stay safe. But now they find themselves trapped with a century of hunger rising between them….

Rysen ignored the throbbing of his cock. As much as he wanted to fuck her right now, he couldn’t. She was unconscious and she was hurt. When he got her in his bed, she was going to be awake and strong and enjoying every last bit of it.

His gaze roamed over her bruised and battered face. “Gods, she is beautiful,” he murmured. He leaned down, scooped her up in his arms, and held her close. He took in her mocha skin, some patches darker with bruises. One eye was swollen shut. He regretted every mark, every bruise, every injury he had inflicted on her, but words did not work with her. Ever since he had passed her over a hundred years ago, when her clan had offered her to him as one of his consorts, she’d loathed him, and she’d taken up her clan’s fight to avenge his insult against them.

He had wanted her — by the gods, he had wanted her — but he had always felt she was just too fine to bring into his world. She deserved better than to be a political sacrifice. His body shuddered at the very thought of her in his bed, arms over her head, tied to the bedposts, her legs spread far apart, her hairless mound glistening with her dew. Her pussy already dripping, ready for him to fuck her hard, fast, and deep. He wanted the image in his head so badly, and yet he knew if he even tried to make a move, she’d either kill him or die trying. He was tired of fighting her. He wanted to tie her to his bed, blindfold her, and show her the delights that could be had if she would only let him dominate her.

Carrying her up the stairs, he held her body close, cradling her like a precious relic. He made his way to the second floor. Out of all the women he’d ever encountered, she inflamed him like no one else. Her oval face, with her large, liquid brown eyes flecked with red, haunted him. Her full lips beckoned him. The graceful column of her neck invited him to sink his teeth into her jugular and drink deep of her life essence. He wanted to cup her small, high breasts and watch his hands travel along the curves of her sides, over her hips, down her thighs, caress her calves, and massage her feet. He wanted to rub his scent into her skin so that all would know she belonged to him and only him. There would be no others if she agreed to be his consort.

He could smell the odious poison in her blood. The wound on her palm was still open, blood slowly dripping from the cut. He would have to drain most of her blood and give her some of his. She would hate him for that.

Giving her his blood would allow him to track her wherever she went, to invade her thoughts and dreams, sense her moods, even from thousands of miles away. He would know if she were with someone else, he could even see through her eyes and take control of her body. He was the third chieftain of the Vampyre nation. He was the third most powerful vampyre in existence, his clan the third largest, and he was also third in line to ascend to the throne of the Vampyre monarchy. All he needed was a queen.

He made his way through a hallway and couldn’t understand why she’d bought this horrid place. It had no class, no sophistication. It was out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods, the nearest town five miles away.

“How in the hell is help supposed to get here in case of an emergency?” he asked the sleeping figure in his arms. “And it’s not even pretty land. For the love of the gods, the garden is overrun with weeds. The lake is a cesspool, and I have yet to see one animal around here. My darling, you should have taken my offer to make you a queen. Then you could’ve had all the beautiful land you could want.”

Even in sleep she defied him. As if on its own, her hand rose and tried to hit him.

He chuckled. “I shall call it a pet project for you, then. A hobby. But this should not be your life. You’re too talented to waste your gifts on this place.”

She tried to hit him again. He wanted to take hold of her hand and kiss the back of it, brush his lips against the pulse point and feel her heart beat. He looked up and saw he was only a few feet away from the bedroom he sought, the largest one at the end of the hallway. He could feel the rival vampyres outside, walking around, plotting their next move. Once he saw to her comfort and recovery, he would go outside and destroy them.

“How dare they interrupt our fight,” he growled. “As soon as I know who they are, they will be dealt with.”

If he had won, she would have been forced to concede to him, and therefore her fate would be in his hands. As much as he hadn’t wanted it to come down to that, he would have preferred it to the suicide mission she seemed to be on when she decided it was in her best interest to fight him.

“So stubborn is my darling,” he murmured softly. He loved her for that. He loved everything about her.

He kicked open the door and looked around. He was relieved to see that the room was in good condition. The furniture was of good quality, no dust or broken items. A large bed, piled high with pillows and bed coverings, stood against a far wall, the headboard a wrought-iron monstrosity whose top nearly hit the ceiling.

“This will do for now. You, my darling, deserve so much more.” His cock throbbed at the thought of laying her down in the silks, satins, furs, and velvets of his own massive bed. He shook his head. He wouldn’t feed his sexual desire now, not yet anyway. He refused to leave her while some unknown threat waited outside, prowling around looking for a weakness in Blyder’s protection spells.

“They won’t find them,” Rysen murmured as he arranged her on the bed and pulled off her boots. He paused, wondering if he should undress her to see how extensive the damage was. Making up his mind, he gently took off her tank top. Next, he removed her jeans and then her underwear.

Once she was naked, he catalogued all that he saw. Though his body reacted to the sight of her, his mind worked overtime to keep his lust at bay. He could see the bruises and wounds slowly starting to heal or disappear, but not fast enough. He took hold of her wrist and held it, palm up. Her self-inflicted wound had not disappeared.

She was too weak. Her immune system wouldn’t be able to defend itself until she had fully recovered. The poison was working much too well.

Swearing, he placed her arm gently on the bed and shrugged out of his black leather duster. Kneeling, he took hold of her arm and brought it to his mouth. His tongue lapped at the spot he would bite into, preparing it to stave off infection.

His canines extended. His body began to heat, and his cock grew harder. He kissed her pulse point before biting down, and his back arched as her blood hit his tongue. The sweet, salty, metallic flavor caused his taste buds to explode with pleasure. His eyes drifted closed while her life filled his mouth like sweet, hot lava. The faint bitterness of the poison did not dampen his pleasure; it was nothing to one of his strength. He drank of her, careful not to drink too much.

A soft moan drew his attention. He saw her back arch, her breasts thrust into the air. The scent of her desire filled his nostrils, and he moaned in response. Blood slipped from his mouth, coating his chin, dripping down to stain his shirt.

“Easy, darling. Be at peace. I’m going to take the poison from you,” he whispered with his mind.

“I’m dying,” she responded.

“No. I won’t allow it. You will not meet the Great Maker now or ever, if I have my way. Relax, my darling. Let me take care of you.”

“No…”

“Do it,” he growled out.

He felt her resist before he reached out with his power. Like a whip cutting through the air, his power flicked out into the space between them; like rope, he wrapped his will around her, pressing her down to the mattress. Her body flinched before relaxing back onto the bed. Once he was sure he had taken enough of her blood, he reluctantly released her wrist and lapped at the wound. Once the puncture marks were closed, he bit down into his own wrist.

He gazed upon her naked body, which looked cold and waxy, almost deathlike. He shuddered. He’d become a vampyre so he wouldn’t have to lose anyone else he loved. Seeing her like this reinforced how much he loved her. His wound welled, blood dripping down onto the worn bedspread. He reached out and pried her lips apart.

“Don’t fight me, darling. Drink of me.”

He placed his wrist at her mouth and watched her react. Reaching up, she took hold of his arm, holding it in a vise grip, her lips pressed to his flesh. Her tongue darted out and lapped at his wounds, causing pinpricks of fire to dance up his arm, inflaming his arousal. Her mouth latched onto his wrist, and each pull of her lips felt like a caress on his cock.

Rysen’s shaft throbbed in time with each tug. He reached down and, with one hand, ripped open the button of his jeans, pulled down the tab, and slipped his hand into his pants. Taking hold of his dick, he began to stroke his hardened rod, eyes now closed, head tilted back. He rose on his knees and, with a bit of awkwardness, tugged his pants down until his cock was fully freed. He wrapped his fist around his shaft and started to pump, up and down, in a grip that would cause tears to form in most men’s eyes. The pain and pleasure cascaded through his body. Warm waves ebbed and flowed through his veins as his hips moved back and forth. He fucked his hand as if he were inside her.

“Rysen,” she moaned, her voice echoing softly in his mind. He grunted in response.

“My love,” he answered. He did not care that he had just admitted his feelings for her or what she would think of them. He paused briefly, remembering the moment that had brought them to this place. The point where he had become her enemy a hundred years ago.

Five years ago on Halloween, author William Moore carelessly broke up with a witch. Needless to say, she didn’t take it well. Cursed to a lonely non-life as a ghost, trapped in his own home, he never expected to do more than exist in the world his ex had created. Except now he’s got a new roommate in the form of fellow author, Alyssa Washington, and he doesn’t anticipate his strong attraction to her. As their simmering emotion sparks life within, he yearns to become mortal once again.

Aly awoke, feeling a heaviness lying around her waist, trapping her arm and leg. When she tried to move, she found she couldn’t. Fear made her squirm even more until the heaviness on her leg slipped away. She felt warm, moist air caress her cheek and then heard an inhalation of breath. Will! And he’s become solid!

Sighing, she relaxed while trying to figure out how to get out from under him. Every so often sharp needles of pain shimmered through her leg as it woke up from its slumber. When he rolled over to the other side of the bed, she scrambled up to get off the mattress. When she tried to stand, her leg wouldn’t support the weight and she ended up falling to the floor on her butt.

Groaning, she lay down on the floor, her leg prickling. To add to her pain, her arm was awakening. The pinpricks of pain shimmered up and down her arm. She gritted her teeth.

“Aly? Aly, you okay?”

“No, I’m just lying on the floor for my health,” she retorted, sharper than she had intended.

She heard the bed creak as he got off the mattress. He floated naked over her. Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes remained glued to the large, thick shaft standing at attention. He crouched down, then reached out and ran a hand through her hair. “You okay?”

“I fell.” She continued to stare at his cock, now closer to her mouth. She had an urge to raise herself up and take it in her mouth. She managed to drag her eyes away, and ignored the way her body throbbed and ached. How tight her skin felt. The way the room had become blazing hot instead of nice and warm. She swallowed and tried to sit up on her own. If he touched her, who knew what she would do. Once upright, she noticed that her leg and arm were no longer prickling but her ass hurt. William continued to crouch down next to her.

“Let me try and help you up,” William suggested.

“No, no. I’m fine.” She struggled to get to her feet while trying not to brush up against William. It was a difficult feat. She wanted to lean into him, feel his body and strength against hers again. As she swayed once on her feet, William straightened up quickly, solid hands reaching out to clamp down on her upper arm, helping to steady her.

“Come on, let’s get you into bed,” he urged.

“I don’t need your help.”

“Don’t push me away.” His voice was soft, edged with an emotion she couldn’t identify. Aly gazed up at him to find his body was wrought with tension, as if waiting for something to hit him. She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off.

“It was lonely here before you. I was lonely. I went from woman to woman, and while in college I drowned myself in travel without really enjoying where I was or what I was seeing. It was all research to me. Now, I wish you had been with me. I couldn’t take it if you ran from me because of something I said or did.”

He finally looked into her eyes. His eyes shimmered with emotion. A lump formed in her throat, she wasn’t sure what to say. She knew what it was to be lonely, to lose yourself in life instead of dealing with the ache in your heart as you watched other people finding something, someone, wondering when you would become one of them. She may not have gone through men like they were water, but she had developed habits to help her ignore how empty her life was. She had fallen into a routine that held no joy for her. She loved writing but grew tired of her characters having the happy ending she wanted.

Aly couldn’t figure out how he had done it. How he had carved out a niche in her life that made her want things she hadn’t thought possible. Now, some of her desires were in reach and tangible. “I understand what you’re saying. I know what it is to be lonely.” Her voice was soft and yet it sounded deafening in the quiet room. “I fell into a routine without living life. I was numb and now…” She wasn’t sure what to add, everything circling in her head sounded so cheesy and inadequate. “Now you’re not alone anymore. It’s like you’ve found something that you never thought possible and everything feels so natural.”

His hand came up, his fingers slipped over her skin like a whisper. “That’s how I feel with you. I can’t figure out how you did it. You just showed up and everything feels better, right. My family, with the exception of Deacon and my uncle, treated me like a nuisance that had disgraced them somehow because I refused to be their poster boy for good behavior. And when I left they were actually appalled. Now I’ve found you and you fit perfectly into my life.”

His fingers slipped down the side of her neck, over her shoulder and down her arm. He took hold of her wrist, held her hand palm up, and threaded the fingers of his free hand between hers. His hand felt solid. She closed her fingers around his and they stood like that for a while, staring at their joined hands. A tear slid down her cheek. Overwhelmed with emotion, unsure of how to put into words what she felt, her eyes silently pleaded for him to say something.

He nodded. “I know. I feel the same way.”

He lowered his head, and she made no move to stop him. He brushed his lips against her, softly at first, the touch tentative. When she didn’t pull away, he pressed his mouth to hers. Their heads rolled from side to side slowly. The kiss began to transform from soft and sweet to heated and passionate. His tongue slipped along the seam of her mouth and she parted her lips, giving him permission.

Burning, her body was on fire and wound so tight she became afraid that she would break. Her core clenched as her pussy became drenched in her juices. Her clit throbbed with need. Her sex tingled with arousal. She began to rock her hips, wanting to feel the solidity of his body against hers. Their kiss became frenzied as her body continued to move against him.

She pulled her face away, a cry of frustration on her lips. “I want to touch you, feel you.” She glanced down at their still connected hands. His fingers were fluctuating between fuzzy and solid. His touch went from warm to cool and back again.

Anguish contorted his features. “I want to, taste you, touch you, and feel you too. I wish to the gods I could be with you. I ache with longing to be with you.” William’s voice was harsh with torment.

She let go of his hand and began to pace. Her body ached, her skin was too tight. She was wearing too many clothes. An idea came to her. “There is a way, but you can only watch me. I know it’s not…”

He cut her off. “Anything, I’ll do anything.”

She began to shed her clothes; shirt, sweat pants and panties landed in a pile on the floor. She looked up at him, and her breath caught to find his eyes practically burning into her. His gaze only incited the flame that burned within her.

“You take my breath away,” he murmured. He reached out, his translucent fingers trailing over her chest, and the tip of a finger made contact with her nipple.

A shock of electricity went straight to her clit. Her hips jerked forward and she moaned. “Again, another touch like that,” she urged.

He circled the single finger around the areola before pinching the tightened nub. Another soft cry passed her lips as a gush of liquid warmth slipped down her thigh. Her aching channel clamped down on air as the fire in her body blazed hotter. He transferred his attention to her other breast, repeating the action. More, she needed more.

“Enough,” she said, her voice ragged as she tried to gain control over herself. Aly walked over to the bed, crawling onto the mattress. She lay down, spreading her legs wide, showing him the slick, thick lips of her sex.

“Come to me. Watch me as I make myself come for you.” She turned her gaze toward him, waiting for him to come and join her on the bed. She didn’t have to wait long. The mattress dipped under his weight, the outline of his body rippling, pulsing, almost as if she was seeing his eagerness and anticipation.

“Can you … can you touch yourself? Can you get relief that way?” She couldn’t stop the questions. Part of her felt nervous, she had never masturbated in front of someone else before. The other part of her wanted to relieve the pulsating ache between her legs. She watched his hand move, as if in slow motion, toward his stiff shaft. His fingers wrapped around his cock. Breathlessly, her eyes followed his hand moving up and down the thick shaft. She swallowed, squirming slightly.

“Touch yourself. I want to watch you come in front of me,” he urged, his voice deep and gruff. His eyes narrowed to slits, dark green glittering behind the frame of dark brown lashes. She moved her hand, fingertips trailing between her full breasts down her stomach and over her mound before slipping between her thighs. She parted the thick lips of her sex, exposing the engorged bud. Heat shot through her as an image formed before her eyes, of him between her thighs, his teeth gently tugging her clit, tongue flicking the sensitive bud before sucking the nub into his mouth.

Her hips arched off the mattress. She could feel his mouth tugging, sucking, and pleasure rushed over her as fire danced on her skin. She felt hands on her breasts, squeezing, massaging the globes. Fingers pinched, rolled and tugged on the turgid peaks. Electricity shot to her clit, and heat spread through her groin with each pull of the phantom lips. Lifting her head off the pillow, she gazed down her body–there was no one there. He sat on his haunches before her, stroking his cock, eyes glued to her pussy.

The invisible mouth stopped its ministrations.

“Touch yourself,” he urged.

With just her fingertip, she began to circle her clit. Pleasure ran up her spine, her body arched upward as she increased the pace. She circled faster and faster, his hand moved faster over his shaft, matching her pace.

He groaned. “I wish I could taste you.”

She cried out, and felt something thick sliding into her needy channel. Her core clamped down on the invasion. She knew it was him. He stretched her walls. “More. I need more of you.”

Her fingers picked up speed, rubbing harder, occasionally pinching her clit. Pain and pleasure clashed within. Her orgasm coiled tighter and tighter. He pushed farther inside of her until he reached her cervix. She clamped her inner walls around his phantom cock. He pulled back and thrust forward, harder. He began to pound into her while her finger worked her clit. Phantom fingers pinched, tweaked and pulled her nipples. A finger circled around her anus.

Sweat slid over her skin. Her body sunk into the pleasure and pain.

“I wish I was whole, solid. I wish I could be inside of you, making love to you properly. This isn’t enough. It will never be enough until I feel you around me, surrounding me. Let me show you what I want to do to you.”

An image surfaced in her mind of what he wanted for them…

He grabbed her hips, pulling them against him, holding her still as he thrust himself against her. The hardened shaft rubbed between them, the thick head slick, a pearlescent drop of need at the tip. His cock pushed forward and retreated, sliding against her belly. The image was so erotic.

She wanted to watch that cock sink into her pussy, watch him as he fucked her, claimed her. A burst of fire washed over as need rode her.

She continued to watch the image, her finger circled faster and faster as the scene progressed. Her cunt contracted. Moisture gushed from her pussy.

The images continued. He stopped rocking against her and lay back. He took his cock in his hand and began to stroke the thick shaft. Pearls of desire formed from the slit at the top and dribbled down the shaft.

She yearned to taste the salty sweetness of him. Wanted to take him into her mouth and suck him until he came. Instead, she watched herself crawl up his body, admiring his athletic legs dusted finely with dark red hair. Stopping between his thick, muscular thighs, she sat up on her haunches. Bending over at the waist, she raised her head and looked up at him, making sure he was watching what she was about to do. His emerald green eyes were trained on her. Holding his gaze, she flicked the tip of her tongue over his slit, once, twice, three times.

She watched his body shake slightly, and smiled. She moved to the other side of him and lay down, waiting for him to cover her body. In that moment, all she could see, feel, think and hear was him. Nothing else mattered. She didn’t have to wait long; his body covered hers in a matter of seconds, his heat enveloping her. His musky scent intoxicated her. His hair covered them, blocking out most of the light in the room.

His heated gaze held hers. Bending her knees, she planted her feet on the mattress and tilted her hips upward in invitation. Balancing on one hand, he reached between them. She felt the thick head of his cock at her entrance. Her body stilled, anticipation hummed between them. She waited, the seconds ticking by so slowly. She was about to demand he move when his hips shot forward. She cried out at the burst of pain as he entered her. He was thicker than she had thought. He stretched her as no other lover had. He paused, just his cockhead inside her slick channel. Her inner walls contracted around him, trying to pull more of him inside of her.

She moaned. The thickness began to pound her pussy as he showed her what their lovemaking would be like. The phantom fingers continued to tug, pinch and roll her nipples. Her orgasm coiled tighter and tighter within her belly.

“William.” She moaned. There was nothing else she could say.

He growled. Fire rushed over her, in her, the blood in her veins was burning. It didn’t hurt. A mouth moved over hers, capturing her lips, nipping, tugging and sucking on her plump bottom lip. Groaning, body arching, finger dancing, pinching, running around her clit faster, harder, the dream-like sequence progressed as her body became enveloped in heat.

She wrapped first one leg around his waist and then the other, crossing her ankles, drawing him deeper inside of her. They moved together, thrusting, rubbing against one another.

“You feel so damn good. Fuck.” He grunted as he began to pick up the pace, moving faster. She met his thrusts with ones of her own. Slipping her arms around him, she slid her hands down his already slick back, over the hard cheeks of his ass, digging her nails into the firm flesh. He groaned as he pounded into her. The sounds of wet flesh slapping against wet flesh filled the air.

“Yes, harder, fuck me harder,” she urged. Her diamond-hard nipples rubbed against his chest, causing arcs of electricity to shoot to her clit. She clenched her walls around him, and her orgasm built, her stomach tightening. With each thrust he hit her cervix, pleasure mixing with pain. He circled his hips, rubbing over the G-spot. She cried out as a burst of ecstasy washed over her.

“Mine, you’re mine,” he declared before lowering his head and taking her lips in a possessive kiss. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, scraping the sensitive flesh with his teeth. She moaned, her body moving with him. He let go of her lips. “Say it, say you’re mine,” he demanded, pounding into her.

“I’m yours, all yours.”

“Damn right.”

Aly circled her fingers faster and faster around her clit as she watched the image of him fucking her harder, pounding into her. She was on the edge of coming.

“So close, almost there.”

She pressed down on her clit. Fire burst over her. Her legs began to shake as she came. Her head tilted back as she cried out his name.

The image in her head of him pounding into her made her moan. With each thrust, he uttered the word, “Mine.”

She wished it was real. Wished it wasn’t just a fantasy being shown to her. She wanted him to come inside of her, feel the warm, liquid rush of his seed coating her core. She wanted to feel his hot, slick body against her, his hot, moist breath against her cheek as he panted, trying to regain his breath. She yearned to feel him as he became flaccid inside of her and yet remained, and their combined fluids slipping out of her. Aly moved her finger away from her clit. Her muscles twitched and jumped from aftershocks and yet it still wasn’t enough…

The image faded. She took in William’s face, and saw his features contorted in anguish and need. His hand continued to stroke his thick cock. He hadn’t come.

“William,” she said softly. He shook his head, head tilted back, jaw clenched, neck muscles straining. He was trying to so hard.

“I wanted to come with you. Wanted to join you in ecstasy.” He let out a frustrated grunt before his hand fell away from his still hard cock. His head fell forward, hair hiding his face. She wanted to reach out to him, touch him, reassure him but there were no words that came to mind. With a harsh cry he vanished, and she lay there, tears slipping from her eyes.

She rolled onto her side and curled up into a ball. Squeezing her eyes shut, she cried for him. His pain felt as if it were hers.

OUT NOW from Etopia Press!

Flushed and Fevered 1: Bewitching the Vampire

Blurb:

A stubborn witch vs a vampire king…who will win on Halloween?

Bridget is a witch who has been given a sweet deal—nab a rogue vampire and score a big payday, but she must deliver him within twenty-four hours. She’ll need help from Joe, the local vampire liege, to find the rogue vampire fast. Joe agrees to give her the information…if she agrees to play a few hands of poker with him. For each hand, she must reveal a bit about herself. And for each hand she wins, he’ll answer any question she asks. But Bridget isn’t sure she can keep things objective—not when Joe gives her that seductive grin.

Joe has always had an interest in the little witch. She defies his expectations and surprises at every turn. But despite his natural inclination to help her, he decides to make her work for the information she needs in the most delicious ways. With a little bit of seduction and a little bit of bondage, he tests her resolve to play the game…and tests his own self-control to contain the blood beast inside him. The stakes are sky-high, for both of them. But on Halloween, the most powerful night of the year, which one will be the winner?

Joe led her into the room, pulled out her chair, and touched the small of her back as he pushed her seat forward. There had been no need for the touch, but she felt the electric shock through the layers of her leather jacket and her thin sweater. The current trailed lazily up and down her spine to buzz around her pussy and fill her body with heat and awareness. The tips of her ears burned and her face flushed. She licked her bottom lip and tried to focus on the danger that sat across from her.

Joe took his seat with easy grace, his features bathed in golden light from the overhead chandelier and the lit candelabras. Bridget took in the neatly groomed five o’clock shadow, his navy blue eyes outlined with dark lashes, the barbell piercing that cut through his thick right brow. Despite his undead status he had a light tan that only enhanced her fascination with him. Where the hell did vampires go to tan that wouldn’t cause them to burst into flames? She shoved away her question and focused on the silver studs in his ears. A smirk graced his mouth. She wondered what it was that he knew that made him smile that way?

She’d heard the rumors, knew the older vampires could read things in a single touch, even through layers of clothing. What he got from her she wasn’t sure and didn’t want to know, but that damn smirk seemed to mock her. Her body twitched with unused energy as the thrill of contact with him continued to circulate. Her blood buzzed with awareness and her skin tingled.

She licked her bottom lip again and fought to focus on something else, anything else. Her stare trailed from the red oak flooring to the framed posters of comic book covers, each one singed by author and artist. A pang of envy filled her as she spotted a Batman: Year One cover signed by Frank Miller. For a moment, she wondered what kind of security system he had and if she could sneak it out without him knowing.

His steady, unblinking gaze settled on her like a weight, making her hyperaware of just how tight her nipples were and just how long it had been since she’d gotten laid. This was why she went out of her way to avoid the living hell out of Joe. She knew nothing about him, but he managed to pull and tug at things deep in her body that she didn’t want to think about.

She focused on the bat-shaped bulbs of his chandelier and wondered what could compel him to buy something so ugly. It was at odds with the simplicity of the room.

Joe cleared his throat and Bridget turned her attention back to him. He still had that smirk on his lips. Her palm prickled with the urge to smack him and make him stop. At least her magic hadn’t been activated. “What?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

She gritted her teeth. “What?”

He picked up the cards and held them up. “Rules are simple. You win a round, I answer whatever question you ask; I win, you answer me. Deal?”

“That’s why I’m here.” She managed to get out, suppressing a growl.

He raised an eyebrow. “To play poker and enjoy the pleasure of my company?”

“For answers, asshole.”

He opened his mouth wide enough that she saw his tongue stud. She squirmed on her chair. She’d heard all the rumors about what men with that kind of tongue piercing could do. This was no time to think about that.

Joe chuckled, a dark sound that seemed to have nothing to do with poker and everything to do with sex. Did all vampires learn this laugh or was it just the old ones?

He dealt out the cards and settled back in his chair. Bridget picked up her cards and looked down, unsure whether or not she had a good hand. She had never played poker in her life. She figured two aces were good but what about two eights?

“Ah, Ms. Roseway. Powerful that one. Good family. Went to tea at their house once. They had the cutest little silver spoons with stars on the handle. Tried to buy them right then and there for the wife but Mrs. Roseway said no. Now there was a woman. Strong. Mighty strong that one. Bridget was there. Cutest child you ever saw. So precocious. Always asking me questions.”
Doc chuckled. “Wanted her to fall for my son, but nope, he likes men. Shame. Not that he’s gay, but that I couldn’t make her part of the family so I could get those spoons. May have to hire one of those raccoon thieves. Heard of them? Trouble, but so good at their job. Anyway,” Doc looked up. “Um, what was I saying?”
“That I could die?” Joe glared at the old vampire. If he wanted story time he would watch Reading Fucking Rainbow. “You were going to tell us about the cure.”

I’m pleased to announce that the second book in my Halloween Trilogy, Making Demons Purr, has been contracted by Etopia Press and is scheduled for October.

This is the second book in my Halloween Trilogy. (Dead Man’s Hands is the first book in the series.)

This is an unedited Sneak Peek.

“You’re a far way from safety, Seraphena.” Carver St. James’ deep voice rumbled from the darkened doorway. Goose bumps rippled over her skin as her temperature spiked. Her heart beat began to race as her feline counterpart became more alert. Tension sang along her legs and arms as she fisted her hands. The magic that flowed unhindered during this time of year skittered along her bare flesh cause her tremble. Damn witches, letting their control go. Something else moved down her limbs, like raw silk kissed with heat.

I recently signed a contract with Etopia Press for the first book in a Halloween themed trilogy. The first book Dead Man’s Hands is tentatively scheduled for 08/1/15. Here’s a small, unedited teaser of what you can expect:

He rubbed her arms, pouring into the cold limbs with just his touch. Joe’s unique cologne became her air. Every pull brought his scent into her body. On her tongue she could taste something cool with a hint of heat and sweetness as well as something with a dark tang that rolled over her taste buds and made her mouth water. It only added the sexual hunger crawling through her body and slipping through her veins. Her pussy became heavy and throbbed with the need for stimulation only the glide of his cock could satisfy. She moved her hands to grip the edges of the armrest on the seat and clutched the wood tightly until it dug into fingers. Her palms prickled with the urge to reach out and touch him, to cover his hands with hers and guide him to where her body needed his touch the most.
His breathe whispered against her neck and her heart beat bucked up. “Tell me what you need, Bridget.”